Just Vibing

Pairing: Cody/Rex

Rating: E

Tags: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Gender or Sex, Strap-Ons, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Teasing, Light Dom/sub, Light Rank Play, Rex in the 212th Attack Battalion

The AU in question: Like Wildfire (That one is Cody/Maul and features dragonfucking)

Maul has enjoyed Kenobi’s fall from grace, even if it coincided with his own. Maul has been cast out before, he’s fought his way back to the top before, he’ll do it again. Kenobi has lived a charmed life, never once facing the sort of tragedy he willingly inflicts onto others. Only now is he finally tasting true defeat. 

It’s all Maul had ever wanted for him. Even if it means Kenobi is currently making a mess of grooming him.

“Do you think me delicate?” Maul hisses. 

Kenobi is so close to him that Maul’s eyes can’t keep him in focus, but the blur of him seems to set its shoulders, scrubbing the brush harder over Maul’s scales. It’s still not hard enough. Kenobi is in one moment too gentle, imagining he could hurt Maul with his puny human strength, and the next, careless, trying to unpick a scale that isn’t ready to be shed, ripping it from Maul’s side. 

Kenobi had been an admiral. Any time he’d spent on a dragon’s back had been under the watchful eye of someone else. He’d certainly been far too important to lower himself to clean one and his inexperience shows. Maul would never usually allow anyone this inept to groom him, but he has also found himself without allies of late.

And it’s Kenobi’s fault he can’t groom himself.

The stumps where his front legs used to be no longer hurt, though sometimes he thinks they do. He manages well without them, he killed the Mandalorian dragon without them, ripping it’s throat out with just his back legs and teeth. Kenobi sought to cripple him and failed. But it makes certain things difficult. Standing for too long puts strain on his back, taking off requires more effort without his front legs to propel his front half up. Grooming his face and front half is impossible. 

So he must allow Kenobi to do it for him. The world has a sick sense of humour, sending them to each other after the collapse of the world order. Unlikely allies hidden in desert caves until the time is right. 

It is satisfying, in a way, that Kenobi stole his birthright from him, only to end up with no one else to turn to.

Kenobi’s brush rubs away the dirt that’s built up around Maul’s face, letting the black and red scales shine without sand and dust to dull them.  He pulls it away, dripping it into the bucket to refresh the water, the moment making him, for a moment, clear and sharp before he falls out of focus again. 

 Kenobi moves up towards the ridge over Maul’s eye, resting one hand just under it. Kenobi is small, small enough that sometimes when he touches Maul’s side Maul almost doesn't feel it. The scales around his eye are sensitive, sensitive enough that he can feel not just the touch, but the shape of each finger and the warmth through the palm. 

Maul could kill him in an instant. He could twist his head and snap him in half before the human even had time to realise what was happening.

Perhaps he will. 

Maul closes his eye, and Kenobi presses the brush into the ridge, water squeezing out of the brush and running down the side of Maul’s jaw. 

So I decided what you meant by this was that I should write a fic I've had sitting in my to-write list for at least a year now. Posted to Ao3 because it got a little long for a prompt fill.

Can't Help but Smile

Pairing: Laseema/Atin

Summary: “Be quick,” Laseema says, already shifting her weight onto her hands, just enough for him to pull her panties from under her ass and down her legs. “Before someone comes looking for us.”

Rating: E

ok hear me out - Dykeverse, cody/fox, squirting, humiliation (in like the fun way)

This ended up being over 1k (just) and I think the world needs more dykes so I posted it over to Ao3!

Done This to Ourselves

Summary: Like so many before it, an argument between Cody and Fox quickly devolves into fucking about it

Rating: E

This is shippy only in the sense that I wrote this with the understanding that they'll be fucking about this within the month.

It’s been months, but the logo on the wall is still the faded eight spokes of the Republic and not the six of the Empire.

In the time it takes for Wolffe to cross from the mess door to the back corner Neyo and Fox don’t exchange a word. They don’t even look at each other. Neyo holds his caf mug in both hands, palms flat to the sides, steam drifting up from inside. He doesn’t lift it to his mouth. Fox drinks amber liquid from his own glass in big mouthfuls.

They don’t look at Wolffe until he’s stood over them, heels clicking together, hand up by his head.

“A word, Fox?” Wolffe says.

Prompts are still open!

Echo and Fox argue in the room over. They’re trying to keep their voices low, but sometimes too much anger cuts through their hushed accusations and a voice carries through to Fives. He’d get up and do something about it, but himself between them like they’re two squabbling tookas who’ll forget they were fighting once eye-contact is broken. He’d get up except the pain medication has left him heavy and his thoughts dulled. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been listening to them argue, drifting in and out of consciousness. They can go for hours when they really get into it. Someone needs to do something before they say something one of them really regrets.

Fives tries to sit up. He doesn’t get far.

There’s a limit to how much pain the painkillers can kill as it turns out, and that limit is well before sitting only a few hours after getting shot. He’d shoved Fox out of the way. That’s what he and Echo will be fighting over, though what sides they’ll have taken there’s no way of knowing. It doesn’t really matter. One of them will have stated an opinion and the other will have dug their troops down on the opposing side, ready to die for it.

pretty please :^)

Prompts are still open!

Despite Maul’s thorough and repeated examinations of his fights with Kenobi, he doesn’t know how this keeps happening.

He knows it’s Kenobi’s fault.

Maul’s lightsaber is off somewhere to his right, Kenobi’s to the left. He can feel both of them, but doesn’t call either of them to him, his too busy to catch them. His fists are tangled in the front of Kenobi’s shirt, trying to wrestle him to the ground. He’ll pin him there with hands around his throat and choke him until the light leaves his eyes, until Maul has had his revenge.

But Kenobi won’t be easy prey. Kenobi’s face is twisted into the sort of vicious snarl he likes to pretend he’s too virtuous for, but he’s never been able to hide from Maul—Maul had never been able to forget the perfect hatred Kenobi had felt when he’d sliced Maul in half. 

They crash to the ground, but it’s hard to tell who it is a victory for. It rapidly becomes even harder when Kenobi smashes their faces together, lips and teeth and tongues crashing together until there’s copper between them.

Maul didn't want this to happen, but it would have been a fool not to be prepared. He’s allowed Kenobi to rut against him without reciprocation one too many times

His lower half was built for combat, not comfort, and he’s unwilling to compromise on that functionality. The prosthesis doesn’t attach to him, but does connect wirelessly to the implant at the base of his spine that already served as a back up control for his legs if the main line was damaged.

With Kenobi foolishly detracted moaning into Maul’s mouth, Maul manages to pull it out and turn it on. Sensation flushes through him and he jerks, hand a hot brand around a part of himself he’s not used to having. He should have been prepared for it, his shock gives him away.

Kenobi flinches backward and before Maul can do what he planed on doing—shoving it into whatever hole of Kenobi’s provided easiest access—Kenobi has snatched it away.

Kenobi’s warm hand around it is even worse than his own. Maul absolutely does not whimper.

Kenobi stares at it. The shape unmistakable even to someone who has never seen a Zabrak penis in person—Kenobi better not have. That he might have makes Maul reckless. 

He bares his teeth and snarls, “Give that ba—”

Kenobi shoves it into his mouth. 

Maul thrusts his hips upwards towards where he feels the heat around the prosthesis, but it gains him nothing. Kenobi pushes the prosthesis deeper into Maul’s hot, wet mouth and Maul chokes on. That feels even better than the rest of it, the tightness of his throat spasming around the tip of the prosthesis.

Kenobi stares down at him with eyes blown wide. He grips Maul’s jaw, fingers curled under his chin, thumb tucked in beside the prosthesis holding his jaw open. Maul could bite right through it—it would only hurt for a moment before it automatically disconnected. The damage to Kenobi’s thumb would be far longer lasting.